Thank you to all our readers, those who point out the errors and those who report they read every column. You cannot imagine how much that is appreciated. And thank you at this Christmastime to the anonymous donor whose unbelievable generosity will provide warmth this winter and put my mind at ease.

At my house, clouds of wrapping paper have been stuffed into the recycling bin and the bones of the turkey are in the freezer waiting to be resurrected as soup, and it’s time once again for those pesky New Year resolutions. While some folks may resolve to focus on global-wide lofty goals, mine are much more mundane.

In 2008, I resolve not to take Tommy and Lane’s rantings too seriously or personally. I’ll try and keep in mind that they are writing their opinions from a vastly different perspective than mine.

I resolve during the next year to make a real effort to identify each and every photograph I’ve collected over the years and which now reside in a couple of shoeboxes. Some of them are of people who died before I was born and probably no one in my family even knows who these people are.

I’ll visit people I’ve known all my life, who are now in nursing homes nearby, and who may not even remember who I am.

The several containers of future projects (braided rugs, denim embroidered carry-all bags, Christmas ornaments) will be looked at one more time and go into a yard sale box, along with things that were bought at yard sales and then ignored.

In 2008, early in the year, I’ll get rid of some of the dozen or more cookbooks I’ve amassed and which haven’t been opened in 10 years. And, more importantly, I’ll quit buying them when they’re on sale!

Some of my luncheons will be at the senior center, Unity Gardens, which is about a city block away from home and where I can visit with, and learn from, friends I don’t see very often.

I promise, in 2008, to be a better person about returning library books on time. While the fines go for a really good purpose, others may be waiting to read the book that has slid under the edge of my chair, collecting dust.

Next year I’ll make a real effort to meet every deadline, stop volunteering for every committee vacancy and take some time to enjoy sitting in the sun and talking on the phone.

It’s a new year, my 71st, and I’ll enjoy each and every precious hour.

And, good luck and thank you, to John Balentine, who has been my editor for these last several years. His good nature and ability to be unruffled by pressure will be missed. I doubt if we’ll cross paths on the Appalachian Trail, but you never know!

See you next year.